


Outrunning Reality

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Dark Klaus, Distrust, He slowly becomes an addict, Klaus centric, Klaus is 8, Klaus is still clean, Psychological Horror, Psychological downward spiral, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self Harm, Symbolism, There will be a lot of symbolic stuff, Thin line between dream and reality, Unreliable Narrator, the mausoleum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: Reginald always said that the punishment should fit the crime. So when Klaus is locked in a mausoleum he can’t even begin to fathom what crime he had committed. Was it his grades, the skirts, or truly his distaste for the dead?It isn’t shocking that his mental state is heavily effected in turnbringing about a series of nightmare like moments beyond his understanding. He hurts his siblings, he paints the walls with their blood, and he imagines how easy it would be...to kill his father.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably more of a prologue than a first chapter. It’s simply a retelling of the first mausoleum event since It’s the most important part of the story. I mean it sets off everything else so yeah?

It's dark so very dark. It's as if the moon has taken over the sun in a fight against good and evil. On the battlefield evil festers without reserve.

"Dad!" He yells for what seems like the hundredth time, not that he's counting...

_Klaus_

The voices keep screaming at him, clawing their way into his brain before injecting their own parasite inside. He can feel it inside, swirling in each little crevice of his brain. The disgusting creatures leave slime and mildew seeping into him.

He can't stand it.

"Please let me out!" He curls in a corner as the ghosts surround him. They speak as if they are miles away but they are right there, staring at him with darken eyes and speaking with lungs only fit to slew ink.

"Dad!" 

_Klaus_

"Please Dad!"

_Klaus ___

____

He screams until his lungs are raw and all he seems to do is cough. It isn't enough. They don't leave him, they don't quiet, they don't stop injecting their parasites in him.

He shoves his fingers in his ears as hard as he can, uncaring if he ends up deaf. Anything is better than this.

He can still hear them. He lays down and curls himself in a ball. His fingers wiggle deeper into his ears until a piercing pinch forces him to yelp and a ringing starts to echo inside his ears.

————————————————————

He's still curled into a ball but his hands are lifelessly at his sides now. He's lost the will to fight it.

The door opens and light surges into the room from the moon. A shadow crawls over him from his father, his ray of hope yet the hand that gives his torture.

"Welcome back to the land of the living Number Four," His father said while looking down upon him, casting his own judgment.

He sits up as he blinks away appending tears. He crawls slowly, carefully, his demons aren't far off. "Can I go home now?” He asks, only wishing he could beg but his throat is so raw he can't manage it.

"Have you overcome your fear of the dead?" His father answers his question with a question. An air of authority surrounds his words as his judgment is being thought upon.

He stares back and swallows roughly. His silence is bad but for a moment he's frozen in fear. He's afraid to lie, he's afraid yet he wants to leave. He needs to escape.

He nods.

"You must become the master of your own life Number Four," His father said, still holding that voice of authority as he speaks. "Or it will become the master of you," His father is on the edge of a decision. He takes a step inside and looks down at him through his monocle.

"Please! I want to go home," his voice cracks as his eyes glass over. His father blurs and all he can see is his thin outline. He swallows before holding his breath. He can't cry in front of his father he can't-

"Three more hours," His father turns around.

"No!" He sits up, his voice crawls out of his throat without a second thought.

His father walks outside without looking back.

"Don't leave me..." the door shuts and the room is completely engulfed in darkness. He crawls back against the wall and hides away in the corner.

The voices start crawling out of the depths that surround him. Out of the darkness, out of the dirt and the dust, out of the mouths of the dead who materialize from thin air.

_Klaus_

They call to him with their voices like venomous snakes. 

_Klaus_

"Go away!" He screams to them, shoving his head against his knees and looking away. "Please go away!"

_Klaus_

Inside his mind again the voices place themselves. 

"Dad!" He calls for him again and again but he never comes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaus will slowly but surely descend into madness <3

He's hyperaware of the silence and darkness of the house he comes home to. He's dirty, parasites are laying eggs just below his skin and all he can feel is the way they squirm.

Yet his father tells him to go straight to bed without a bath. 

He does as he's told.

He grinds his teeth with each step. He keeps clenching his hands at his side but it's getting harder to fight the urge to scratch and pinch at the creatures underneath his skin.

He breathes one breath after another while entering his room. He lands face first on his bed and presses his pillow against his face to muffle a scream.

He falls asleep with tears rolling down his cheeks.

————————————————————

Sun trickles over his bed along with the sensation of being stared at by a thousand invisible eyes. As he sits up his arm starts to radiate pain and he looks down with his eyes scrunched up with pain.

A bandage is wrapped around his wrist.

He tenses up. It's an automatic response to seeing something that utterly wasn't there when he had fallen asleep. Where had it come from?

He gently begins to peel it away, slowly revealing bloodier and bloodier bandages until he can see his pale skin cut in two. A long gash goes around his wrist...almost like he took a knife to it.

He throws a hand over his mouth to contain his disgust before getting up and running out of the room. He needs to tell someone, he needs help.

_Something is wrong_

No one is here.

"What was he thinking?" He hears Luther say, down the hallway towards the bathroom.

He takes a deep breath before making his way down there. His head is spinning and he struggles to walk. 

"Dad is going to be so mad," Allison mumbles in a high pitched voice.

His feet are dampened by something as he starts to see his siblings crowding at the bathroom door. He looks down and his heart drops. Water cascades out of the bathroom with a red tint.

He looks up in horror at his siblings. "What happened?" He asks as he comes into view, hiding his wrist because for some odd reason his brain tells him to.

He receives five hot glares from his siblings. He tilts his head in confusion. 

"I do wonder how this could have happened..."Diego's voice is laced with sarcasm.

"What?" He squeaks out just barely.

"Who the hell forgets to turn off the bathwater?" Five narrows his eyes as he looks down upon him...like he did this. 

"I didn't do this," he sputters out, taking a step back as his siblings shoot a glare at him. 

"Really?" Allison says before rolling her eyes. "Who was it that decided to hog the bathroom all night? When did you even come out? One hour ago? Two?"

He shakes his head as his nails dig into his palm. 

"I didn't take a bath!"

"Here we go again," Ben says, turning away and giving him the cold shoulder.

"I didn't do it! You can't blame everything on me! I wasn't even allowed to bathe last night after-" he stops speaking his hand had begun to move with his speech and his siblings haven't stopped looking at his wrist.

He hides it behind himself again.

"How did that happen?" Diego says, taking a step forward and forcibly grabbing his hand. He looks at the wound, the scabby, darkened bloody mess that lines his wrist.

"I don't know..."

"Is this what you were doing all night?"

He shakes his head, pulling his hand out of his brother's grasp. "I didn't do this...or that! Stop blaming me for everything."

He isn't a scapegoat. 

He turns around and stalks off. His siblings whisper behind him.

————————————————————

"Oh sweetheart," his mother sighs while bandaging his hand. "What a big mess you've made."

"I didn't do it."

"Did this cut just jump on your wrist?"

He shrugs and looks away. The room seems so small and uncomfortable. With each breath he takes he feeds the parasites in his veins.

This is a truth he can't escape.

The subtle clicking of a cane enters his ears, slow and methodically. He turns to the doorway while he waits for his father to arrive.

"Number Four," His father says upon seeing him. "You have become a weakling..."

He looks down in shame.

There is nothing else. No more speaking nor noise. He looks back up, his heart caught in his throat, half expecting a heated glare to be shot towards him.

His father is gone.

"What are you looking at dear?" His mother asks him while cupping his forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I just thought...I'm fine," he whispers, leaning into her soft hand.

————————————————————

There is no water, nothing at all covers the floor in front of the bathroom or inside. He can't help but be complexed at it. Had someone else cleaned it up? He highly doubts it was a free clean up.

_Klaus_

He ignores the calling of a ghost. One who simply watches from afar while pretending not to desire him. It's hard because he knows these things see him as some sort of savior. 

He isn't.

He knocks on Diego's door. It's silent for a while before a noise comes from inside. He assumes it means 'come in' and opens the door.

Diego is laying on his bed, a lollipop in his mouth and a comic in his hand. "Someday dad says we'll be like these guys," his brother says while flashing the comic at him.

It's one of those superhero comics. The ones who solve crime and do illegal things yet never get caught. He highly doubts they'll ever truly be superheroes although The Umbrella Academy is his father's dream.

He pushes on Diego's shoulder. "Move over," he spits out before laying down beside his brother. "What happened with the bathroom?" He asks with a yawn, still not fully awake or functioning. 

Breakfast should wake him up.

His brother hums as he flips a page in the book. "I asked you a question!" He nudges his shoulder with his elbow.

"What?"

"The bathroom- you know the water covered floor...what happened with that?" 

His brother blinks a few times before shutting his book. "What are you talking about?" He asks, asks in a tone like he thinks he's crazy.

"Don't be like this," he makes a noise of frustration, "You were just lecturing me a few moments ago about letting the bathtub overflow-which I did not."

His brother blinks a few more times before pressing a hand over his forehead. "Are you okay?" Diego says as he looks upon him with concern.

"I'm perfectly fine," he sits upright and bats his hand away with his injured hand. It doesn't hurt at all. He looks down upon it with confusion only to realize that the bandage is gone and all that's there is his parasite filled pale skin.

He takes a few deep breaths and Diego raises a hand out to him, almost touching him but not. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes..." he lies because he doesn't know if he can stomach the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be one big mind fuck so prepare yourself.


End file.
